


The Cards are Laid

by AproposOfInsomnia



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Future Character Death, HIV/AIDS, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Sad, Sick Character, Soft marvin, act 2 Whizzvin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:47:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21557806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AproposOfInsomnia/pseuds/AproposOfInsomnia
Summary: Marvin and Whizzer share a day in the hospital playing cards and reminiscing
Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	The Cards are Laid

The hospital room seemed darker than it should; the curtains too thin to provide the shadow falling over the bed. Overhead, the lights fought a losing battle overhead, casting an odd, dreamlike glow. Marvin could almost pretend that what this all was: a dream, a nightmare that he simply had to shake himself out of. Against the bed sat a table, occupied by a sad plastic cup filled with water, and a deck of cards sat atop a chessboard. The pieces were in their rightful spots, ready to be played, only slightly skewed. The thought of Whizzer forcing his hands, his weak, shaky, skin-and-bone hands, to cooperate enough to place each one drove a harsh spike of sadness into his heart. He lowered himself into the adjacent chair and picked up the cards. Idly, he pulled them out of their case, flipping them quickly from hand to hand, absently counting them. Back and forth they went as he observed the man in the bed. 

His face was pale, lips almost invisible against the dreadful pallor. Dark smudges of purple wrapped around each eye above sunken cheeks. His hair, thinning from stress and the endless cocktails of medication forced into his system, was covered in a knit cap. If he didn't know better, Marvin would say that he looked already dead. Then he would hear the breath rattling about his frail chest, see the barely there twitch of a hand and the resigned peace would settle in once again. He wished they could go back. They had only just found their stride, trusting each other. Loving each other. It all seemed so far away, where they would curl up together and talk for hours about nothing. He longed for the times of reveling in the afterglow of an...exciting night, the weight of Whizzer's head on his chest, his long body curled to fit within his embrace, leaning lightly into his fingers as they ran through thick hair, not dissimilar to a particularly affectionate cat. 

He was shaken from his thoughts as a cough, barely strong enough to make it past dry lips, broke through the rhythmic slap of rhythmic slap of card stock. Everything froze as Whizzer's eyebrows, the only thing that seemed to have survived the horrifying transition from confident young man to bed bound invalid, scrunched together before glassy brown eyes finally cracked open. For a moment he seemed confused, lost, as thin fingers patted imploringly over the scratchy blankets. They traveled up the tubes of his cannula until they reached his face. He sighed then, a sound so close to defeated, before dropping his hand back to its spot against his side. 

It took a while for him to notice Marvin, his eyes roaming about the ceiling with an air of defeat. Finally, they landed on Marvin's, his face crinkling into a wide smile. They both pretended not to notice the mutual wetness of their eyes as he mumbled out a parched greeting. Quickly Marvin passed him the cup, a pitying frown washing over his face before he could catch it as Whizzer's fingers shook harshly against the plastic, the watering threatening to spill over the sides until they were steadied under Marvin's own. 

God, how it hurt to see his lover, usually so independent and ready to take on the world, smile so thankfully for his help. He longed to pull him into a hug, squeeze him until their positions were switched. He settled for wiping away the tears still lingering on his cheeks, sitting back into his chair with a smile he knew didn't come close to reaching his eyes. 

"Play a game with me," Even his voice was weak. 

"Of course," He would do anything to see the light come back to those beautiful eyes. 

It clearly wasn't a day for chess, his hands too useless, his eyes too tired. They settled War, Whizzer having to only slide his palm across his cards to flick them at Marvin. It would have been comical if it weren't so heartbreaking. Suddenly, an image flashed across Marvin's mind. It was of Whizzer, the picture of health, sitting across from him in the comfort of their home, his legs stretched around the coffee table he sat upon. A spread of cards lay between them but all he was seeing was the lock of dark hair falling into an adorably focused frown. As quickly as it came it was gone and he was left staring this Whizzer, so different from that he remembered and yet there was the same frown, the same excitement drawing him as close to the game as he could get. Something about it brought a feeling of relief. This sickness was there, seemingly to stay, but Whizzer was fighting and it hadn't won anything yet. 


End file.
